


hounded

by spale_vosver



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The old man squad adopts a dog, and then that dog turns out to be of the entities, keep the words "sexy tennis" in mind. this is why this fic is rated t
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spale_vosver/pseuds/spale_vosver
Summary: Barnabas Bennett is standing in Jonah’s doorway with a dog in his arms.Though he’s not a full devotee of the Eye yet, Jonah’s been getting better at sensing the presence of other Entities, and…This dog reeks of Viscera, of the Flesh.---The Regency Bastards adopt a dog.
Relationships: Barnabas Bennett/Jonah Magnus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	hounded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dundee998](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dundee998/gifts).



> After a several month long hiatus, I return with another Magnus Archives fic! This was SUPPOSED to be published on my 18th birthday back in December, because I wanted to post something really wholesome and cute as a joke (because, you know, 18, legal adult), and then time got away from me, and it's coming out now.
> 
> This is a gift for dundee998 (a gift you can accept this time!), who left the absolute sweetest comment on my Simon/Jonah fic and genuinely made me cry.
> 
> I have no idea how many chapters this will be, but do know that this fic is intended to be lighthearted and fun, and, aside from the aforementioned "sexy tennis", will largely be devoid of mature content sans period-typical drinking and swearing. With that, I hope you enjoy!

Barnabas Bennett is standing in Jonah’s doorway with a dog in his arms.

Not just any dog, either; the thing is _enormous_ , wider than the door frame itself, and Jonah briefly wonders how Barnabas is managing to carry it before he refocuses his thoughts. 

“Barnabas,” he begins, then shakes his head. “You’ve got-” he tries again. After a few more failed attempts at starting a conversation, he gestures broadly to the two of them. “Dog. In your arms. Why?”

  
  
“Well, I could hardly just _leave him on the street_ , Jonah!”

  
  
“You’re attempting to bring a _street mongrel_ into my house?” Jonah says, and, true to what he’s said, Barnabas is in fact trying to maneuver himself to fit the massive beast through Jonah’s door. 

“Jonah, it’s pouring outside! I’m already soaked through, and- oh, angel, would you move over?”

  
  
Despite Jonah’s protests, Barnabas manages to get through the door, and, as he makes his way towards the parlor room, the dog’s wagging tail catches Jonah across the face, smearing him the same mixture of mud and slush that Barnabas is now tracking across his nice, clean rug.

Jonah screeches.

  
Barnabas quickly pivots to see what the matter is, and when he sees Jonah, he can’t help but cackle at the sight of prim, proper, perfectly made up Jonah hurriedly wiping the mixture off his face with his shirtsleeve, cursing about how some _got into his mouth, goddamn you, Barnabas!_ When he’s finally gotten enough off his face to be able to see properly, he shoots Barnabas a scowl.

“Do _not_ laugh.”

  
  
“But, love-”

  
  
“ _Barnabas_.”

  
  
“I mean- it’s all over your _face_ , love!”

  
  
“And _now_ it’s all over my floor, and- _BARNABAS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT PUT THAT THING DOWN ON MY CHAIR-”_ _  
_

But Barnabas has already happily seated the dog on Jonah’s parlor chair, divesting himself of his coat to help dry the mutt off.

For as many social graces as Barnabas has burned into his memory, animals have always been a weak point for him, whether it was hatching chickens in his dormitory at university, or falling asleep beside one of Mordechai’s horses, or, as he is doing now, completely ruining Jonah’s furniture for the sake of a dog he collected off the street. If Jonah weren’t so absolutely furious, he might be endeared. Barnabas’ coat is absolutely disgusting by the time he’s dried the dog off a good amount, allowing Jonah to get a better look at the thing.

He surmises it might be the matted fur and mud streaks, but the dog doesn’t look like any he’s ever seen before; he’d called it a mongrel before, but now, he’s not sure if that even applies; instead of a mix of two pedigrees, the thing is more a mildly horrifying jumble of features from _every_ breed: the stockiness of a Great Dane covered by the loose skin of a Neapolitan, which, in turn, is covered by the thick fur of a Saint Bernard, the drooping ears of a bloodhound somehow cut into the points of a Paisley, and though he’s not a full devotee of the Eye yet, Jonah’s been getting better at sensing the presence of other Entities, and…

This dog reeks of Viscera, of the Flesh.

(Well, it reeks in general, but one might not know that given how adoringly Barnabas is cooing at it).

Jonah takes a step closer, and the dog bares its teeth; its warning growl is low, bone-rattling; it thrums through his small frame and makes his teeth ache. 

“Now, Kibble,” Barnabas scolds, though there’s no disdain in his voice, “we don’t rumble at our friends.”

  
  
Jonah takes another step. The dog--Kibble, apparently--rumbles again, angrier, more protective.

“Kibble, really…” 

“Barnabas,” Jonah cuts off the other man’s sentence at the knees. “Would you mind...keeping an eye on that thing? I...have a bit of reading to do that I meant to get to earlier, before you. Well.”

  
  
“Yes, of course.” As Jonah starts off to his study, Barnabas asks: “Would you mind if I bathed him here? He’s...well. Quite filthy.”

  
  
“Yes,” Jonah says, “just don’t use my bathroom. Use the ground floor bath.”

* * *

After scrubbing his face for an extended amount of time (even after several washes, he can _still_ feel the mud caking his cheeks), Jonah has secluded himself in a small nook in his study, thumbing through _A Treatise On The Powers And Their Domains_ , Smirke’s most recent compendium on the occult. Despite being less than a month old, the tome looks rather worse for wear; Jonah has never been the most tidy of men, and, in addition to dog-earing pages and scribbling in their margins, he’s got an awful habit of leaving books in the worst places: face down on a desk, face down on the floor, face down...anywhere, really. 

When he finally finds the section regarding the Flesh, he rereads it a fair few times. He’s recalled that the Flesh most often manifests itself in animals, but, being the “youngest” of the Fears, is scarcely documented, and, as such, the book is of only superficial assistance.

With a loud huff, he shuts the book, and tosses it somewhere, making a note to write to Smirke about this in the near future as he rubs his temples...and promptly discovers a dried patch of mud he’s missed.

When he tells an elated Barnabas that yes, they can keep the dog in his estate, he prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that this whole ordeal will be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I have no idea how many chapters this will be. I hope you enjoyed this one! Comments and kudos are appreciated, as always!


End file.
